


I Don't Laugh

by Raelyn_Sakura



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic, The Adventures of Sinbad (TV)
Genre: Gen, Jafar is too tough to laugh, Sinbad no Bouken, Sinja, Sinja comes later, smol angry ja'baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7391695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raelyn_Sakura/pseuds/Raelyn_Sakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're all hearing things, because clearly Ja'far can't laugh</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Your Hearing is Impaired, Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> Super short drabble. There will probably be more chapters.

The first time it’s an accident.

It’s clearly a fluke. That sip of wine he managed to sneak was affecting him terribly. Yeah that was it. It had to be. 

Certainly, deadly assassin chiefs from Sham-Lash DID NOT laugh. At all.

The involuntary sound escaped Ja’far’s mouth and immediately both hands flew up to slap loudly over his lips. Gray-green eyes widened to saucers before he got his face under control. But it was too late.

The small room went deathly silent as all eyes turned to look at the child sitting alone in the corner. Vittel’s mouth was hanging open like a fool. Rurumu had her head cocked to the side with a small smile, her eyes full of surprise. Worst of all was Sinbad. The idiot was grinning ear to ear, staring right at Ja’far like he had done something fucking funny! As if! Sinbad was the one being the fool! And the wine had caused Ja’far to make a small sound at his antics! What the hell! 

Ja’far lowered his hands and threw them all his best scowl. Vittel’s mouth closed with an audible snap and he retreated a few steps away to the (relative) safety of Mahad. “The fuck are you assholes looking at?” Ja’far growled.

“Ja’far, language!” Rurumu snapped. She was sitting too far away to smack him, but Ja’far tensed up for a moment, ready for the blow. Knee-jerk reaction. Ja’far scowled and looked away.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before.” Sinbad, as usual, was the only one immune to Ja’far’s death glare. He was still smiling like an idiot. “You should do it more often.”

Ja’far’s head snapped back around. “Fuck you! I don’t laugh! You’re all just stupid, so I made a noise based on how dumb you all are!” 

“Suuuuure.”

“Asshole. Whatever, I’m leaving.” Ja’far stood abruptly to his feet and edged to the door. Vittel scrambled out of the way. “Some of us need sleep. Go fuck around ‘til you fall over drunk. Like I care!”

The door to the mess slammed behind him as he dashed up to the deck. His face felt hot, and he knew it was because he was blushing. Damn his pale complexion to the darkest depths of hell! 

It’s not like he was blushing because he was embarrassed or anything. He had no reason to be. None at all. He hadn’t laughed back there.

Like someone who was dead inside could laugh at all.


	2. The Scientific Approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sinbad is an idiot, and Ja'far realizes something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Significantly longer drabble this time.

The second time it’s less of a fluke and more of a…strange occurance. An interesting study into humor-oh bullshit Sinbad was being a dispshit and it was fucking hilarious.

The asshole was completely drunk this time. Standing precariously on top of a table in the dining area and brandishing his almost empty beer mug (which Mahad kept silently refilling) like he would brandish a sword, a red-faced Sinbad was telling his account of the beginning of his journey.

It had started with a simple question from Vittel- what had Sinbad done to warrant the Partevian government hiring three high-ranked, professional assassins to kill a fourteen-year-old? 

“Well, the simple answer is I refused to give them the power of Baal’s dungeon,” Sinbad explained, grinning. Golden eyes flashed and his grin deepened. “The reality of the situation is, I royally pissed off the Princess and humiliated her in front of a bunch of people. And I still wouldn’t give Baal over to the king.”

Rurumu’s brow furrowed. “Humiliated her? What did you do to the poor girl?”

And so Sinbad had launched into an epic retelling of the events, from his adventures in the dungeon with Dragul, to Serendine getting defensive over her “little brother” and coming for Sinbad herself, and finally to a public fight and kidnapping.

“Kidnapping?” Vittel yelped, spilling his beer (finest of Imuchakk’s harvest, that beer). “The fuck? You kidnapped the Spider Princess?! A high general in the king’s army?!”

During all this time, Sinbad’s chest had been steadily swelling with the attention, and this awe from Vittel was the last breath of hot air to make Sidbad float. Well, step up from the ground to the top of the table, but still. Taking a long swig from his mug, he stepped up onto the bench, then onto the table, towering over everyone, even the seated Imuchakk couple. Hinahoho was laughing his ass off while Rurumu looked worried for Sinbad’s safety, but both were caught up in the drama of the moment. Sinbad had always had a gift for making people listen, enraptured, to whatever he wanted them to listen to. Drama Queen, but hey, it worked.

“She tried to poison me. Poison me!” Sinbad yelled, eyes wide and focused on Vittel. “She wasn’t fighting fair, so I decided not to fight fair either. But I could at least be a gentleman about it!”

“How is cutting the straps to her breastplate and tossing her over your shoulder being a gentleman?” Hinahoho asked. A wise question, that.

“Hey, I had to cut her shirt: I had to get the antidote out! And she kept it in between her breasts! That’s cheating!” Sinbad crossed his arms and tried to look mature and imposing, but just ended up spilling the rest of his beer all over Mahad, who jumped up from his seat, shaking with silent laughter.

And that’s when Ja’far felt the first stirrings of…something, he didn’t know exactly what, in his chest. It was like something was bubbling up inside of him, wanting to come out. He hoped it wasn’t vomit. Seasickness is a bitch.

“Anyway, then her two attendants were totally going to go at me themselves, for disgracing the Princess like that. So I did the only thing I could do to get myself out of there alive without being torn apart by three separate women. I grabbed the Princess, threw her over my shoulder, and hopped into the boat to make a swift getaway!”

Vittel and Hinahoho burst out in renewed laughter, Hinahoho pounding his hands on his knees and Vittel curling in on himself, holding his gut as he howled. Even Rurumu was smiling with her hand over her mouth.

The bubbling feeling was getting stronger. It was in Ja’far’s throat now, trying to roll its way over his tongue and through his lips.

“Then, when we were far enough out, I put her in a barrel and tossed her overboard so her guards could come get her!” Sinbad tossed his mug away from him for emphasis and nearly fell off the table himself, letting out a shriek before Mahad jumped over to balance him.

And the bubbling sensation was free. It wasn’t loud. Just a small burst of sound that rang out for a few seconds before it was reigned back in, but it was too late.

The men hadn’t heard, too busy helping their future king from falling and breaking his neck, but Ja’far caught Rurumu’s eye. They were fixed on him. Before he could scowl or turn away, a smile blossomed across her face. Blossomed, like a flower. That was the only way to describe it. Her lips slowly parted in glee, revealing a mouth full of white teeth. There was nothing mocking in her eyes, only happiness and affection as she gazed at the youngest member of the crew.

For his entire life, Ja’far had been taught that emotions were things to be suppressed and squashed. The only acceptable emotions were anger and hatred, as they fueled his actions and effectiveness as a master assassin. The only time he could remember laughing was when he was four. His mother had whipped him severely, then explained to him why laughter wasn’t acceptable for an assassin. He had learned his lesson.

Vittel and Mahad hadn’t been born assassins. They had both had good parents who were killed by war. They joined Sham-Lash at a young age, but they were still able to remember positive emotions. Their bodies naturally reacted once they were no longer in an environment where such emotions were punished. Ja’far’s body had no similar experiences. But, as he gazed back at Rurumu and a flush started to spread across his cheeks, he found that he didn’t think that laughing every once in a while was so bad after all.

Their gazes broke as Hinahoho picked up Sinbad and set him firmly on the floor. Sin looked sheepish but laughed it off. As his newfound friends fussed over their leader, Ja’far thought it might be worth it to learn to laugh like they could. Maybe eventually he too could have positive memories to replace long years of darkness. He shrugged and lifted his mug (filled with water, thank you) to his lips. Perhaps one day he would succeed.


	3. Baby Laughs Cure Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby laughs make the world a better place

The third time is entirely Kikiriku’s fault.

The baby was only a week old, but he was growing. Fast. Alarmingly so. What had started out as a (relatively) tiny thing the size of Ja’far’s head had grown in the space of a week to the size of the former assassin’s torso. His hair was a tuft of deep cerulean and his blue eyes had taken on a constant look of wide curiosity. He was rather cute (although Ja’far would never admit that out loud).

Ja’far sat in the shade cast by the ship’s mast (fuck the sun; fuck sunburn) working through a list of number problems that Rurumu (mom, as he called her in the space of his own mind, still in awe and slight disbelief over having her declare him her first son) had given him earlier. Rurumu herself was sitting on a pile of crates stacked up in the center of the deck and drinking tea out of a large mug. She was beaming at her husband as Hinohoho bounced Kikiriku in his arms and cooed to him. The baby gurgled in response and waved a fat fist, solidly smacking Hinahoho on the chin.

Hinahoho laughed a long, deep-bellied laugh and thundered, “Look! My son is already training to be a warrior! He’s already taking on his papa!” His voice carried to the edges of the ship, and Mahad wandered over in interest. Ja’far could tell in Mahad’s demeanor that he was happy as he reached out with a huge hand and gently ruffled the baby’s hair. 

The whole scene was sweet enough to rot teeth.

Ja’far turned his attention back to his numbers and focused on his mental calculations. That is, until a shadow that had nothing to do with the ship’s mast fell on him.

Ja’far looked up into Rurumu’s smiling face. She had taken her son from Hinahoho and had walked over to where Ja’far was sitting. Thinking that she had come to check his work, Ja’far held up his slate for her to take. “I’m not quite finished yet,” he admitted.

Rurumu took the slate from him but didn’t look at it. Instead, she gracefully sank to her knees in front of Ja’far and placed the slate to her side. “Why don’t you take a break?” she suggested. “You haven’t had a chance to hold Kikiriku yet.”

Ja’far’s eyes widened. “That’s okay. I don’t have to hold him.” Wasn’t she afraid he’d drop him or something? 

“Nonsense! You need to start fulfilling the responsibilities of a big brother. That means loving on the baby once in a while!” Rurumu reached her arms out and firmly placed Kikiriku in Ja’far’s arms before he had a chance to panic.

Eyes wide, Ja’far stared down at the chubby face blinking up at him. His entire body went rigid, terrified that he would drop the baby. He glanced up at Rurumu. “I’ve never held a kid before,” he told her. “I don’t think I’m doing it right.”

“Of course you’re not! You’re stiff as a board!” Rurumu laughed as she placed her hand on Ja’far’s shoulders and smoothed out the tension lines. “Just relax. I’m right here. You won’t drop him even if he squirms.”

Ja’far forced himself to breathe and relax, turning his attention back to the baby in his arms. The baby that was the size of a large toddler. Kikiriku hadn’t taken his big eyes off of Ja’far yet, staring up at him in curiosity. All of a sudden, the baby’s face scrunched up so tight that his eyes were forced closed. Ja’far gasped in sudden panic, thinking the kid was about to start caterwauling and made to hand him back to his mother. Then the baby blew a gust of air out of his mouth and gave a yell, reaching up and grabbing onto a lock of Ja’far’s hair. He gurgled some more and tugged gently on Ja’far’s pale hair. 

Shocked, Ja’far looked up at Rurumu for answers, but she just smiled. “He likes his big brother,” she said softly.

Suddenly, Kikiriku made a magical noise. The baby giggled. It was a pure sound, full of senseless joy and contentment. Ja’far felt something tug at his heart as he looked back at his little brother.

“Oh! That’s his first laugh!” Rurumu exclaimed. “He really likes you, Ja’far!”

Kikiriku giggled again, still staring up at Ja’far with his blue eyes. Rurumu leaned over and said, “boo!” The baby laughed again. Rurumu repeated the sound, and Kikiriku laughed harder. 

Ja’far felt himself drawn to mimic his new mother and joined her in making sounds. Kikiriku’s giggles rose in volume until he was laughing hysterically, the sound carrying to the opposite end of the boat. And then Ja’far realized something shocking. 

Kikiriku hadn’t been laughing hysterically; Ja’far himself had been laughing. Actually laughing loudly and sincerely.

He caught himself but couldn’t help a few more giggles escaping. Rurumu leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “Your laughs make me glad, my child,” she whispered.

Ja’far turned red and shifted his grip on the giggling infant in his arms. Maybe he could get used to being a big brother after all.


End file.
